They Don't Know About Us
by Ravenscape
Summary: Blaine has a thing for Sam. Sam has a thing about Blaine. Set after Guilty Pleasures. Rated T for now, M later! M/M pairing! Don't like, don't read! Blam!


Sam and Blaine took over the New Directions for a week because Mr. Schue was out sick with that Chinese quail disease and Tina doesn't have a thing for men in their thirties, so he missed out on her VapoRape spree. The Glee Club has to do songs by singers that they're afraid to admit they like, and there's a Spice Girls number where Ryder wants to be an honorary member. Blaine makes himself cry when he plays the piano and it's all awesome but Sam knows it wasn't for Kurt. In fact, everybody knows it wasn't for Kurt. And that's what you missed on Glee!

Strong arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer to the blonde boy's chest. A smile spread across his face as he settled against Sam, sighing in relief. He wasn't weirded out. He didn't hate Bllaine. That was all he really cared about right now.

"Um...Dude, um please tell me that that is only a packet of Life Savers in your pocket."

And it was. This time. But not all the times before when he'd had to cross his legs a little too tightly during gym. Or the performances in Glee. He'd nearly popped out of his Wham! shorts earlier that week.

Blaine went home after school to an empty house like he did every day. He made himself a sandwich and watched some television to kill the time and fill the silence. His house wasn't a mansion or anything, but it was big enough to feel alone in. Blaine didn't want to be alone. It hurt to be alone. With Kurt in New York, he'd been spending more time than he'd like to admit in the shower. They called each other a few times a week to catch up, and the conversations had ended on several occasions with his chest covered in white and Kurt panting breathlessly on the other end, but it wasn't often enough, and it wasn't enough period.

He wanted touch. It didn't even have to be anything sexual. He just wanted someone to hug.

If he was completely honest, he just wanted Sam.

Sam, with his dorky impressions and wicked Halo skills and nerdy references he dropped into normal conversation every other sentence. Sam, whose laugh could always scare away those clouds that darkened the sunshine in Blaine's mind. Sam. Blaine shook his head and stood up, walking back into the kitchen. All he had to do was send one text and the blonde would be over at the house in an instant. Probably with a tub of ice cream he'd make Blaine eat and the complete first season of Pokémon.

It was a blind action. He didn't think it through. Just pulled the phone from his pocket. His fingers danced across the keys and his thumb hit the 'Send!' button before he'd even read it.

'Mind coming over? I could use a bro-night. Please. I know it's weird now but please.'

Moments later, the phone vibrated in his hand. 'choc chip cookie dough or pb banana split?'

'Cookie dough.'

'nicholas cage or vin diesel?'

'Surprise me?'

'k be right there'

And he was indeed. The silence in the air was broken by the steady clanking and grinding of that old pickup truck. Heavy boots on the porch. There hard knocks on the door. "It's open," Blaine called out weakly. He wrapped the afghan around his shoulders and hugged one of the sofa pillows close to his chest.

Sam opened the door, several grocery bags in each hand. "What's up, bro?" he asked, setting them down beside the couch and perching himself on the arm.

"I... I'm really sorry about today," Blaine blurted, not meeting Sam's eyes, instead tracing the swirling pattern of the carpet with his toe. Sam started to say something, but Blaine stopped him. "No, I have boundaries that I can't cross. I think it might just be because I miss Kurt, y'know?" He looked up at Sam, but couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. Blaine kept his attention on his mouth. "Distance sucks. And I love Kurt. But you're the closest person besides him I've ever really had to a best friend, and I let myself get too attached, and I'm so sorry." He didn't realize the tears were falling until after Sam had hugged him. The brunette allowed himself to collapse into his blonde friend, nestling his face into the crook of his shoulder.

"Blaine, it's okay, man. I get it. I totally get it," Sam muttered into his ear. "You're just lonely. I'm not mad about the whole guilty pleasure thing, and I'm not mad about the songs you sang or anything, alright? You'll... It'll be alright."

"But it won't," Blaine said, his voice breaking. "Do you know how many times I've... I've been tempted? How many closet gays live in Ohio? That all they want to do is hook up?" He tightened his grip on Sam, closing his eyes. "I just want somebody to love me, Sam."

"Dump him."

"W-What?" Blaine pulled away slightly and looked at Sam through blurry eyes. "But why?"

Sam released Blaine and leaned back against the couch, kicking off his shoes. "Because this distance thing is hurting you, and I'm sure it's hurting him too. It's only gonna be so long until one of you gives in and cheats again. So just..." His words trailed off slightly. "Just find somebody here. Who doesn't just wanna get in your painted-on skinny jeans."

He shook his head quickly. "Nonononono. I can't do that. No." Blaine put his hands up and ran them across his helmet of gelled hair. "No."

"Then give me your phone and I'll do it."

"Sam, don't. Please-"

"Blaine, give me your phone."

"No!"

"You have three options." Sam held out his hand, locking eyes with Blaine intently. "Give me the phone and make your life a whole lot better."

"What's... what's the second?" Blaine asked, swallowing hard. Serious protective Sam was seriously hot.

"Do it yourself. Right now, with me here so I know you actually did it."

"And the th-third option?"

"I'll take it from you and do it."

"None of those are happening. Can't we just watch the movie or something?" he asked, reaching for the remote. "I just need to take my mind off of it and then it'll all be- what the hell are you doing?!"

Sam had jumped onto his waist, knocking the remote from his hand. It clattered against the table, batteries popping out. Blaine's mind immediately went to countless nights he'd spent alone, imagining this very situation.

'No no no no no. Think of naked Rachel. Think of naked Rachel with a big purple dildo. No. Think of Rachel. And Lauren. Having lesbian sex. No ew ugh. No.'

He struggled to push Sam off of him, but the other boy clearly had the advantage. Using one hand to pin Blaine's arms above his head, the other slipped into- Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. No matter how filthy the lesbian fantasy in his mind was, he was snapped back into reality. Sam Evans, the boy he'd been pining after for months, was straddling him, holding him down, with his hands in Blaine's pocket. He didn't even fight as Sam slid the phone from his pocket. The boy unlocked his phone (God knows how, but Blaine was too shocked to say anything except a halfhearted "no") and typed out something quickly.

"You get it back tomorrow morning, when I leave," Sam said, sliding the slender device into his own jeans. "Now, we're going to have fun and watch some movies, order pizza, hell, I'll let you watch a few episodes of Dance Moms if you want." He went to retrieve the bags by the door. "I'll even eat some ice cream with you." Blaine could only nod. The world could be burning for all he knew. His head was clouded. Heavy with the thought of toned muscles and golden hair and lips thicker than extra-large sour gummy worms.

"I'll... I'll be right back, okay?" He had developed a small problem in the midst of the struggle.

Well, more like a seven-inch problem.

"Nope. You're staying here. I'll do anything to cheer you up, but I can't let you be alone," came the reply from where Sam had ducked behind the television to hook up the DVD player.

"Sam, it's important."

"What is it?" he asked innocently.

"I need to... I need to cool off."

"Oh," was the simple reply.

"Well, um..." Sam rose up from the floor and fumbled with the DVD case. "I'll come with you."

What the hell? "Sam, that's weird."

"No, it isn't. You're my friend, Blaine," the boy said, walking over to the couch. "Gay or not, I know how boners work. You get them when you get all worked up, and I wasn't exactly playing fair." The corners of his mouth quirked up into a smirk. "Besides, it's not like I'm gonna be in there with you. I'll sit outside the door."

"Why though?" Blaine raised an eyebrow and looked at him. It didn't make sense to him. What was the point in Sam going with him to jack off?

"Because you're my best friend. And you're sad and hurt. And I don't want you to feel alone."

"Sam, look. It's really sweet and all, but it'd kinda creepy." Blaine's face flushed and he immediately regretted saying it, because Sam's normally cheerful demeanor dropped as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Okay. I mean, it's not like I was gonna watch you or anything." He crossed his legs and pulled the top off one of the ice cream cartons, staring blankly at the television.

"Sam, don't be like this. Please," he said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's just weird because you're the one who, y'know, caused the issue and I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable."

"You make me feel uncomfortable every single day, Blaine."

"Wh-what?" Sam wasn't homophobic and he said he wasn't weirded out about the crush. "Sam..."

He stood up quickly and rounded on his friend, eyes flaring. "No, you listen to me. You walk into school, parading around in these jeans that look like they're literally painted onto your legs. You, you sing these songs and your voice sounds like Jesus and Cher having sex." Sam grabbed Blaine, his thumbs digging into the other boy's arms. "You have talent and style and you're sexy and all you ever do is moan and whine about Kurt fucking Hummel. You know what? Blaine, I'm absolutely sick of it!" he finished, chest heaving and cheeks pink.

Blaine struggled to force a reply, but Sam was too close, his scent too intoxicating, his hands too tight. And he said Blaine was sexy. "Look, Blaine," he said, a bit calmer now that he'd seemed to get a majority of the monologue out of his system. "I... I think you're a great person. One of the best people I know. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't think you deserve better than Kurt."

"He's my soulmate. We love each other and-"

"Then why didn't he stick around? If you two are so in love and he's your soulmate, how could he possibly be okay with leaving you in this shitty town alone?"

"Because he-"

Sam cut him off. "No. You're making excuses, Blaine, and you know it. You deserve somebody here. Somebody that can make you happy. I can tell that you aren't happy, B." He took a step closer, still gazing at Blaine. "I broke up with Kurt for you. So you can be happy. Because this distance thing? Isn't healthy."

Tears began to flow freely from Blaine's eyes and he sat back down on the couch, resting his head against Sam's chest. Sam just ran his hand across Blaine's back and whispered in his ear. "It's okay. Don't worry." The blonde hugged him to his chest and kissed the top of his gel helmet.

The two of them sat like that for hours: Blaine crying into Sam's shirt, Sam rocking him back and forth gently while whispering. While it was sweet and all, it only frustrated Sam. He wanted Blaine to stop crying. Just turn off the tears and make him smile. But he knew there were only three things that could turn off Blaine's waterworks, so he opened his mouth and began to sing.

"The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow

There'll be sun..."

Blaine pulled away and looked at his best friend, hiccupping softly. A few tears still flowed, but the sobbing had let up a bit.

"When I'm stuck with a day

That's grey

And lonely

I just stick out my chin

And grin

And say

Ohhhhhh..." Sam weaved his fingers with Blaine's and stood up, pulling him off the couch and dancing with him, holding the boy at arm's length by the hands and swaying back and forth. He was smiling now. That was good.

"The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

But you gotta hang on 'til tomorrow!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

I love you, tomorrow

You're only a day away

Tooooo-morrow

Tomorrow

I love you, tomorrow

You're only a day away!"

As Sam hit the last note, Blaine pulled Sam into a tight hug and squeezed him, resting his head against the taller boy's chest.

"Thank you, Sam."


End file.
